Diving For Dummies
by Calcitrix
Summary: Beach Head has to train some Joes in scuba diving. Characters: Beach, Lady Jaye, Shipwreck, Dusty, Mainframe, Footloose, Alpine. Cameos: Torpedo, Flint, Stalker. Complete short story


I don't own these characters, unfortunately. That honor belongs to Marvel, Hasbro, and Devils Due.

This is my first Joe story-- reviews welcome and appreciated!

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As the sun rose slowly over the island of Guam, a summer squall, out to sea but moving closer, lit the sky with bright bursts of lightning. The birds and small animals, sensing the dropping barometer, had all retreated to the sanctuary of the trees, leaving the small beach quiet and desolate. A group of sleeping bags could be seen at the edge of the water, just shy of the pounding surf. Piles of equipment threw long shadows onto the sand nearby.

It would have been peaceful, but-- "You yahoos had better wake up fast!" A booming voice startled several birds from nearby roosts, and caused one of the figures to jerk completely upright. "Pathetic! One week-- a measly seven days of training and you can't even have your gear packed by dawn!" It seemed impossible for the voice to get any louder, and yet the next tirade drowned out the ocean's noise. "You are out here to improve your mind and body! Gain skills that could save your lives, and the lives of your teammates! Slackers, all of you! What do you have to say for yourselves?"

"Aw, Beach, come on. The body and mind don't work without a little somethin' for the soul, ya know? Like five more minutes of sleep? Naw, make that five hours."

Beach Head, U.S. Army Command Sergeant Major and drill sergeant for the G.I. Joe Team, was in his glory. Not only did he love torturing the men and women he trained, he also loved dressing down smart mouth soldiers who thought being funny made up for a lack of other skills. Like Shipwreck. He turned very slowly toward the sailor, whom he noticed hadn't quite managed to get dressed yet this morning. _No wonder he never shaves, _Beach Head thought_. He'd just have to get out of bed that much earlier._

A wicked grin slowly crept over Beach Head's face, for once not covered by his trademark mask. "We," Beach Head said, indicating the six soldiers around him, "Are going to be in the water in fifteen minutes. That storm," he waved his hand toward the clouds in the distance, "is going to hit this island in twenty. Have you ever experienced a typhoon at close range? No? If you want to cosy down in your sleeping bag and make friends with mamma nature, be my guest. I suppose there's some chance you won't drown. Oh, I forgot. Pirates can't swim. Too bad." With that, he turned and started barking orders to the others nearby.

"I used to tie myself to the rails of the ship during hurricanes for fun," Shipwreck muttered. "Lil'ol typhoon doesn't scare me."

"You do realize a hurricane and a typhoon are the same thing?" His fellow soldier, and the only female in the group, shoved a dive suit and gear into his hands. "I swear, Ship, he's gonna strangle you one day." She smiled. "I can only hope I'm there to see it." She glanced down. "I didn't even know they made Underoos in your size. Transformers? Really?" With a wink, she turned to help the others adjust their gear.

"They're not Underoos, Lady Jaye," He called after her. "This style is very popular in Singapore! And what are you doin' lookin' anyway? I knew it, you love me."

"Ten minutes!" Beach Head shouted into his ear, making him jump. "Move it, preschooler!"

Shipwreck bent down to put his feet into the bottom of the suit. "They're NOT UNDEROOS!"

Despite having to help half the team with their gear, Beach Head managed to get them all into the water just as the rain and wind started in. They tread water beyond the breakers, waiting for instructions. This was to be the first in a series of exercises to qualify the set of Joes for underwater operations. They had had extensive training from both Beach Head and Torpedo in the pool back at the island's army base, and were ready for "real" water at last.

"Your objective," Beach Head screamed above the rising wind, "is to get to the bottom and find the reef. Among the coral are three bright orange rings. Each team is to retrieve a ring and bring it to the surface. Just pretend you're back home in the shallow end of the pool, kiddies." He checked and set his dive watch, and instructed the others to do the same. "We're just at forty feet. You've got one half hour. Alpine, you're paired with Jaye. Shipwreck, go with Footloose. That leaves Dusty with Mainframe. Your time starts now!"

He watched each of them dive beneath the surface, and followed at a distance. Torpedo was on call at the docks, but with the storm coming in, he wanted to make sure all of the vehicles were secure. He had also argued against taking the trainees out in this weather, but Beach Head figured if they trained in bad conditions, they could work in bad conditions. HE had argued against training them at all-- what was the point of teaching a desert survivalist to dive?-- But what Hawk said, went, and that was all the drill sergeant needed.

It was actually funny to watch them awkwardly make their way downward; the water was pulling in all directions now, and made swimming difficult. No problem for him, of course. But the others were struggling already. He smiled to himself as Alpine tried to talk to Lady Jaye through his breathing regulator. He could practically see her rolling her eyes from here. She pointed to the left, and pulled Alpine after her. Dusty was trying to wipe sand from the outside of his mask, and Mainframe was only making matters worse by trying to stay upright under the water, sending up clouds of murk with every push of his fins.

_Come on, _Beach thought._ Figure it out. It doesn't matter which way is up anymore. You're weightless._ He turned to the last pair. Surprisingly, Shipwreck and Footloose were doing okay. Their laid-back natures made them fight less against the water, he supposed.

He watched as each pair finally spotted the reef and headed towards it. Shipwreck and Footloose got there first, grabbing their ring and floated nearby, waiting for the others. Lady Jaye and Alpine got there next, just ahead of the last two. They had also spotted the rings; Dusty grabbed one for their team and they fumbled for a moment, trying to figure out how to turn around. Beach Head was fascinated for a moment, watching the pair flip in graceless circles while hanging on to each other. Useless.

Alpine was trying to talk again, and was shaking his head emphatically. A cloud of bubbles soared toward the surface. He pointed to the last ring, then to Lady Jaye. She pointed to the ring and then to Alpine. _Of all the-- _Beach growled to himself_. Was this some kind of chivalry contest? _

He checked his watch and swam toward the pair. Ah, so that was the problem. The large and rather pointy head of an eel hovered mere inches from the last ring. The rest of the fish was hidden in a hole, but it looked to be a big one. Beach Head tapped Alpine and Lady Jaye on their shoulders. It was difficult to be eloquent in the sign language used by divers, but he managed something close to: "One of you better pick up that damn ring right now or I am going to make you eat that eel—and the ring—for dinner."

Alpine and Lady Jaye immediately started playing a game of rock, paper, scissors. Beach Head cut them short when it became obvious after a best out of seven that they were stalling. Lady Jaye shrugged her shoulders and turned to face the eel. She inched her fingers closer. As they closed on the ring, the eel shot out and grabbed the other end. Beach Head had been prepared for this, and had a hand on each of their dive belts as both Alpine and Lady Jaye tried to rush upwards and away from the reef; he pulled them back down with a sharp jerk. He very calmly grabbed the eel behind its jaws, pried the ring out of its mouth, and handed it to Alpine.

Back at the base, which they were sharing for the moment with the "regulars" of the army, Beach Head assembled his small team and the others who were there to watch over the training. The six "divers" were sprawled on couches and chairs in the rec room; Flint and Stalker stood with Beach Head and Torpedo in front of the small tv that was the only one available on base.

He paced in front of them for a moment, to be sure that they were good and nervous before he started. "I know you're not used to this. I know, for some of you, water is NOT your natural element." He lowered his voice to a menacing growl. "But, soldiers, I expect you to be able to learn a new skill with some finesse. I expect you to look forward to new situations, and be able to deal with them. What I saw today was not up to par. MY GRANNY IS A BETTER DIVER THAN ANY OF YOU! SHE MAKES YOUR DIVING SKILLS LOOK LIKE A PILE OF PUKE! IF MY GRANNY SAW YOU DIVE TODAY, SHE WOULD CRY, AND I DO NOT LIKE TO SEE MY GRANNY CRY!"

Beach Head turned to the tv and started pushing buttons. When the picture came up, the seated Joes let out muffled groans. Of course Beach Head had taped the whole thing. Apparently he had rigged a small underwater camera when he went down to drop the rings.

"Uh, Beach-- Footloose and I did okay today, right? I'm just gonna go grab a shower and--" Shipwreck was cut short with a curt "SIT!" from Beach Head.

It was all there. Watching it like this, the team could see that they did, indeed, look like amateurs. Red slowly crawled up Mainframe's neck as he watched himself turning in wild circles underwater. At one point, he and Dusty looked like they were trying out for the Olympic synchronized swimming team. Alpine ducked his head when he watched the regulator fall from his mouth as he tried to talk. Even Footloose and Shipwreck looked chagrined when their –they thought- unobserved signed conversation while waiting for the others played out on screen.

On the couch, Lady Jaye's ears turned pink as she watched the tape. She saw Shipwreck point to her dive skin clad self and make the universal "hourglass" symbol for a nice figure. Her eyes narrowed when Footloose responded with a thumbs up and put his hands up to his chest in another universal gesture. She started to stand up, but Beach Head stopped her with "Oh, no—leave 'em. We're just getting to the good part."

Her head swiveled back to the screen. There she was, Alpine by her side, as they stared into the teeth of the eel. They had been close enough to the camera, unfortunately, for it to catch their expressions.

Beach Head grabbed the remote in preparation for the moment. "Oh, Flint, you're gonna love this." He chuckled. Just before the eel sprang from its hole, Beach Head hit the slow motion button. He played it frame by frame. "You can see the exact moment when they join the ranks of true divers." He advanced a few frames. "Right…Here!" He hit pause.

Their expressions sent everyone in the room into gales of laughter. Even Lady Jaye and Alpine had to join in. "Ok, you've got us," Lady Jaye said. "But what do you mean that's the _exact moment_?"

"Don't you know, Lady Jaye?" Torpedo spoke up. "There are only two kinds of divers in the world: those who pee in their wetsuits and those who lie about it."


End file.
